


Dose

by visionofblue (merelyafigment)



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: A pairing no one wants to read? I'm on it!, M/M, Rare Pairings, my post-season 6 Alvarez POVs are so very depressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-11
Updated: 2004-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26948740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelyafigment/pseuds/visionofblue
Summary: Miguel is high enough to see the truth. (Set after the end of the series.)
Relationships: Miguel Alvarez/Carmen "Chico" Guerra, Miguel Alvarez/Other(s)
Kudos: 2





	Dose

**Author's Note:**

> Archiving Note: am just backdating and archiving my very old fic here (in 2020). This backdate is a stab in the dark. This was posted on a mailing list somewhere long ago.
> 
> Warning: it's Oz, so always beware of nasty language, slurs, and offensive attitudes. **Dubious Consent.**
> 
> Note: It's hard to make sense when your POV character is higher than a kite, so nothing is to be taken too literally in this. I always thought Chico could've been in the closet. He's just way too fixated on Miguel.

There was only water. Pouring over his skin. Into him. It was going right into his heart...maybe he would just wash down the drain with it...melt away...

Miguel leaned against the cold tile of the shower wall. So big and clean, it stretched forever. Unending white. Maybe if he clung to it, melted into _it_ instead of the water, he wouldn't wash away. But it was cold. The water was warm. 

Miguel didn't want to choose between them. Cold, clean and steady or...intoxicating, warm and washed away. He didn't want to make any more decisions. 

They were both everywhere. Cold tile. Water from every direction. And they were...talking....

No, they weren't. The water hissed and splashed, a cacophony, like a waterfall...but it didn't form words. It didn't know his name. 

"Miguel!"

It didn't care about him at all.

Miguel turned, sliding along that wall. It was at his back now. He saw something more than white and water. Stone floor supporting them all. Except the water...down the drain. Miguel saw...shoes.

"Miguel! What the fuck?" 

Miguel blinked and looked up.

A person. A real live one. Not a ghost or a phantom. Or the bright shadow of Alonzo.

Guerra. 

Chico was taking the water away. 

Keeping Miguel from washing down the drain.

Only one little waterfall left, the one pouring directly over Miguel, keeping the cold away.

Chico was snapping his fingers in front of Miguel's face now.

 _Pendejo_. Miguel could see him. That wasn't necessary.

Miguel smacked his hand away. 

"What?"

Oh...Miguel could talk too. He'd forgotten.

But he wasn't melting into the water now. He was with a person. He remembered being a person.

He missed it.

Chico...was looking at him like he was insane. And he was worried. Panicked.

"Do you need to go to the hospital ward? How much did you take?"

Miguel blinked again, water got in his eyes. Chico was wearing clothes, standing just outside the spray. Careful distance. 

Miguel shook his head. "Nah...I'm fine..." That word drug out, Miguel liked the sound.

Disgust joined the concern on Chico's face now.

_Fucking hypocrite._

Chico turned to leave. "I'll leave your ass to the hacks then. Or your fag."

_Motherfucker._

Miguel remembered why he didn't like people. Why he'd swum away.

"You were willing enough to take his drugs, follow him. Follow me." Miguel ground out. He remembered his voice. It was coming back with the anger. The lost feeling. Feeling human again. Even here in the water.

Miguel remembered now.

Chico keeping his distance after OD'ing. Chico was gone...all the time they were away. Evacuated. Different grey walls. Then those bus fumes and they were back to their familiar cage. Was it a day ago? Two? Three? More? Miguel couldn't remember, all days blended together now. And then there was Chico, back in the Emerald City. Looking at Miguel with that pity and disgust again. Questioning. But sticking around those few blending days, because Alonzo and his drugs took the power here again. 

Here and now...in the water, Chico stopped. But that expression stayed.

"What the fuck happened to you? I wanted you to lead...and now you're..." Chico trailed off, hand gesturing strongly away. Writing Miguel off...but not leaving.

He sounded...sad. Disgusted. Sneering. But sad underneath all of that. Chico was hiding so many things under that disdain. Why had Miguel never heard that before? Chico sounded lost too, just more fucking angry.

And his eyes were all over Miguel. The fire in them stopped by the water.

Miguel started to slide down the wall. Remembering cold. He'd forgotten it in the water and fire. 

And then Chico was right there. In the water with him. Hands on him.

Fuck. That touch felt better than the water. Life. Concern. Trying to save him. Miguel held on to Chico's arms, getting him all wet. Miguel saw the light fabric turn dark as it soaked into Chico's clothes. You were supposed to be naked in the water. Miguel was.

But Chico was trying to bring him back to dry land. Supporting him. Muttering curses in his mother tongue as he struggled. But Miguel could stand on his own. So his grip turned strong, keeping Chico there instead of seeking to stand. 

Maybe if he got close enough, Chico would understand and that disgust would go away. "It doesn't matter anymore." Miguel spoke lower than the stone floor into Chico's ear. "Nothing fucking matters. There's nothing but this."

Nothing but stone and cold and brief warmth. Drugs. Water. Heat of bodies. Nothing but that. Chico shivered under Miguel's hands. Not because Miguel had made him cold -- Miguel had made him _hot_.

"So you're a fag?!?" Chico accused, but he was hiding everything real behind his anger.

Why had Miguel never seen this before? Memories swimming to the surface. Chico's eyes always on him, even when they had been at war... and here in the tinge of the drugs...Miguel saw. Chico thought Miguel was beautiful. Chico was afraid. Chico _wanted_.

Chico wanted to be disgusted? Miguel would show Chico what he feared. 

"Fuck you." Miguel growled out of habit. Miguel grabbed the side of Chico's throat, and pulled him to his mouth. 

Swallowing the _maricon_ as it left Chico's lips.

Chico fought against him. Trying to pull away now, no longer trying to save, just trying to run. But Miguel's grip was stronger than stone. 

And Chico...melted like the water. Opening up. Shivering as he tried wanly to pull away, even as Miguel slid into that heat. So hot, more than the water. Fire. Miguel chased all those words. That tongue. No strength there. Miguel's nails dug into Chico's throat, scratching across. _Stay still. Fuck you. You're afraid._

None of that was spoken because their mouths were together. One. 

Miguel took.

Miguel showed him. 

Showed him what Chico was afraid of wanting.

What it was like to be lost.

Miguel threw that fear right in his fucking face.

Chico moaned, felt more than heard through the water.

Miguel's mouth left Chico with the dismantling of his fear. Pulling away. Left hand still on Chico's neck, Miguel's right hand grabbed him. His dick. Through his pants. Soaking Chico there too with his touch. He wasn't wan there. Wasn't limp with fear.

"You never had the balls to want me." Miguel growled into his ear again. Felt the soft skin of Chico's throat dragging under his nails. 

And then Miguel left it all. Letting every touch go to disappear back under the water.

Shock on Chico's face as he...ran away again.

Miguel let him go, returning to the cold white. 

***

The End


End file.
